The Scourge Read online

  I nodded, though my vision was blurring and I couldn't really see him. Maybe when my tears dried, the focus would return. Maybe this was the start of blindness. I didn't know. Or maybe--I stopped there. Unable to complete any rational thought, I clutched at my side again. Either I had become possessed by a monster determined to burst out from my skin. Or else I had the Scourge.

  I had the Scourge. Moreover, I knew where I had gotten it, and how, and why, and it was entirely my fault.

  I had the Scourge.

  My life, in effect, had just ended.

  The medicine from the physician helped a lot. While it didn't take the pain away completely, it calmed it enough that I could breathe evenly and pull my thoughts together.

  I started with the most important thought--the fact that this really was for the best. The last thing I wanted was to have any responsibility for my family becoming sick, or Weevil, or any of the River People. Or anyone, anywhere, for that matter. I wouldn't wish this kind of pain on my enemies. Well, not most of them.

  Second came the rush of questions about what would happen to me now. Was the Colony the way the governor had described it, a place of peace and rest? Or the way Della seemed to think of it? Would I be cared for, looked after in my final hours? Would the final few weeks of my life be pleasant?

  Doctor Cresh had me laid out on his table now, not to examine me, but to let me rest. I felt like sleeping and my eyes were closed, but my mind was still fully involved in my surroundings.

  The doctor and Governor Felling were discussing me in the corner. They must've thought I was asleep or they'd never have talked so openly. Maybe Brogg was with them, or maybe he wasn't even in the room anymore--I didn't know. My eyes were too heavy to check.

  "Who else might she have exposed?" Cresh was asking.

  "Her family, obviously," the governor said. "I'm told that her father is a strong man, well respected amongst the grubs. There will be a fight if we try to take him for testing."

  Yes, there would. My father had once fought a whole pack of wild dogs that had gotten too close to our home. In the end, they'd called it even, though if the dogs had not run off, I had no doubt my father would've eventually won.

  "All the River People will fight if we start taking them," Brogg said. So he was still in the room. "It was no small thing to get this girl and her friend, and they were caught off guard."

  "It was too hard for you and Warden Gossel, obviously," the governor said. "Perhaps I should have sent you to work in the Colony too."

  Brogg's mouth snapped shut--I actually heard that, which made me want to smile. He was afraid of the governor.

  "The girl is sick, so she's no threat," Doctor Cresh said.

  The governor added, "River People are strong. If she gets better, then we'll see what she can do."

  My ears perked up. Get better? There was a chance to recover from this disease?

  "But you lost the boy," the physician said. "Won't he try to return to his people?"

  "If he does, it'll mean trouble," the governor said. "I can't deal with the Scourge and face an uprising from the River People at the same time!"

  Brogg said, "Governor, if that boy gets back to his people and explains what's happened, an uprising is certain. With two of their children gone missing, they will be prepared for us when we return for more grubs, if they aren't on their way here already."

  "Then find him," the governor said. "Search for him everywhere, but especially on the trails leading back to his home. Don't worry about bringing him in for testing. Just kill him and be finished with that."

  I drew in a sharp gasp, which Brogg must've heard because his footsteps came over to me. I felt his hot breath near my face as he got close enough to check on whether I was indeed asleep. I tried to stay calm, to keep my breathing low and even, but after hearing that, how could I?

  Weevil was fast. He might've made it home already. But there was also a chance he'd lingered in the area, hoping I'd find a way to escape a second time. Of course that's what he'd do--he'd never leave me behind. Which meant he might have sealed his own fate.

  A tear had formed in my eye, but I couldn't let it fall. Brogg would see; he would know that I had overheard everything. He put a hand over the rag binding the cut on my arm. It was dry now, probably the only reason he dared touch it. Then he squeezed on the wound.

  I gasped with the pain of it, and my eyes flew open. I sat up on the table, instantly dizzy, but I pulled my arm away and kicked at his legs.

  "I knew she was awake," he said.

  "I am now, thanks to you," I said, trying to cover for all I'd overheard. My vision was still blurry, though not quite as bad as before. Maybe I wouldn't go blind after all. "How long was I out?"

  Before anyone could answer, a voice called from outside the examination room, "Governor Felling! I demand to see you!" That was Della's father.

  The governor sighed and started to open the door, but before she could, Sir Willoughby burst through it.

  "There you are!" he said. "You promised we'd continue our conversation, and then you disappeared."

  "I told you I had to witness a Scourge test." The governor motioned toward me. "You shouldn't be in here. This girl tested positive for it."

  He glanced my way, but as soon as he determined I wasn't his daughter, he forgot entirely about me. "Where's Della? I checked the cell where you were holding her and she's gone."

  "Your daughter has the Scourge," the physician said. "The test results were clear."

  Willoughby's face paled. "No! I saw her only a couple of hours ago, and she was fine."

  "She must go to the Colony." The governor couldn't even pretend to care about the words she was speaking. "It's the law."

  "It's your law." Willoughby's tone raised in pitch. "She's already exposed my household, so let me take her home."

  "And then your household will infect the surrounding households, who will infect the rest of Keldan," the governor said. "Be grateful I am not bringing all of you in right now for testing and isolation. Because I could, and if you keep fighting me, I will."

  I'd expected him to back down at that, but instead, Willoughby seemed to grow larger in the room. "Do you think I haven't noticed who gets brought in for testing? Is it any coincidence that your enemies seem to get sick more often than your friends?"

  "Call it a coincidence if you'd like." The governor's smug grin seemed to infuriate Willoughby further. "You opposed me in the last election, I remember. Didn't I warn you back then that it would be a mistake?"

  Willoughby started to say something, then changed his mind and said, "I've heard there are other medicines. Stronger medicines that can protect us from the Scourge."

  "Dangerous rumors. Ignore what you've heard." The governor's voice had a strange edge to it. Was she mocking him, or simply not lying well enough?

  "I will pay you for the medicines." Willoughby's voice was choked up now with sadness. "If they prevent the disease, perhaps they can treat it too."

  Governor Felling remained calm. "It's too late for your daughter, and the law must apply equally to everyone who tests positive. But for the rest of your family, you are entirely dependent upon my mercy now. Who does your daughter spend the most time with? Her mother perhaps? Shall I bring your wife in next? Don't you have other children as well? Does Della ever play with them?"

  That gave Willoughby pause. He had raised an arm in a threatening gesture toward the governor, but now he lowered it.

  "Please don't take my daughter away," he said softly. "Governor, I'll give you anything you want."

  Her tone softened as well. "There's nothing I can do, Sir Willoughby. If I release your daughter, who then infects someone else's daughter, how do I explain that to their family?"

  Willoughby nodded and clumsily brushed tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. Then he walked over to me. "Tell my daughter--" He swallowed hard. "Tell my daughter I loved her."

  Loved, as in the past tense. Used for those who have already
passed on.

  "I will on one condition," I said, holding back tears of my own. "You must get word to my family on the river, of where I've gone. Tell them I've already died and that it was peaceful." That was the most kindness I could offer them, to believe this was over for me.

  "One more thing, Sir Willoughby." The governor's voice was low and menacing now. "If I hear you're the person spreading those rumors about different medications, I will immediately start testing the rest of your family. Do you understand?"

  Willoughby swallowed hard on whatever response he clearly wanted to make. He then nodded and backed out of the room, though none of us missed his icy glare aimed at the governor.

  Doctor Cresh picked up a metal flask from his desk and handed it to me. It was small and silver with a thin rope attached to sling it over my shoulder, which I did.

  "What is this?" I asked.

  "It's your medicine, and there isn't enough to go around so be careful with it. Once your flask is gone, that's all you'll get."

  My smile was faint. "Medicine for us common people, huh?" Then, with only a brief glance at the governor's angry, pinched face, I stood and turned to Warden Brogg. "All right, I'm ready. Let's get this over with."

  He replaced his hat, nodded respectfully to both the governor and doctor. And I left the room with him, on my way to the Colony.

  We crossed through the mostly empty building and out a rear door heavily guarded by other wardens. Perhaps this was why no one guarded any other part of the building--everyone was needed here. Even if Willoughby had known Della was on the other side of this door, he still wouldn't have been able to get past so many armed men.

  The door opened to a small dock on the Scuttle Sea, an unimpressive saltwater inlet that lacked the beauty of our freshwater rivers. Several more wardens here watched over ten other people, who were probably also Scourge victims. Pinchworms, all of them. Della was standing near the group, but had set herself at enough distance to make it clear that she considered herself as different, their superior.

  It struck me as odd. I had always viewed the pinchworms as one useless clump. It had never occurred to me that perhaps some pinchworms might look down on others of their own people too. Come to think of it, that sort of division sometimes happened amongst the River People. Maybe that was human nature, to divide groups into better and worse. I turned away from the people and looked out across the water, hoping to turn my thoughts away as well.

  Attic Island loomed on the horizon, a place I had never expected to go. Like the neglected room of a home, Attic Island was the overlooked part of Keldan. It was isolated, surrounded by choppy seas, and prone to terrible storms. Nobody had ever escaped from the prison there. Even when Dulan was shouting about a coming war, they had never asked for the island. They didn't want it. It was the natural place to build the Colony. Away from the healthy population. Forgotten.

  "Is there anything to drink?" I asked Warden Brogg. "Please, I'm so thirsty."

  "You'll get more than enough water soon," he said without looking at me.

  "What about food? I haven't eaten since yesterday."

  "I haven't got any food here," he said. "Besides, what do the dead need with food?"

  My temper rose, but I kept my voice calm. "Nothing," I said innocently. "Except a ghost with a full stomach is less likely to haunt your nightmares. You haven't seen the last of me."

  "Yes, I have." He pushed me forward and walked along behind me. The flask from the physician bounced against my chest while the liquid sloshed inside. Beneath it, I felt the rhythm of my heart, beating far too fast. I had to keep talking, to keep myself from thinking too heavily about my situation.

  "Where's your medicine?" I asked Brogg. "You don't seem nervous about catching this disease. Is it the same medicine as I have, or was Sir Willoughby serious before; are there different medicines that can prevent people from getting the Scourge? Why don't you give that to everyone in Keldan?"

  "You heard the governor. It's only a rumor." He nodded to the flask I wore. "You're lucky to get any medicine at all, grub."

  "You know my name. Why don't you use it?" I asked.

  "I don't have to care about the things I don't name," he responded.

  Which, in a strange way, made sense. We didn't want to know their names any more than they wanted to know ours. The wardens were nameless men who harassed my people for crimes we had not committed, and corralled us into smaller territories to make room for growing numbers of pinchworms. Not knowing them made it easier to resent them. And pinchworms ... I supposed most of them were people too.

  Once we reached the shoreline, I saw a long rope stretching out over the water and extending for as far as I could see. Attic Island was in the distance, and if I looked carefully, I could barely see the top of the old prison. I guessed the rope went all the way to the island. Attached to the rope but near the shore were three rowboats.

  The method for delivering us to the Colony was clear. We would row ourselves in the boats to the island, and then these wardens could pull the boats back to the mainland. Nobody but Scourge victims had to touch the boats. Everyone would stay on course through the rough waters because there was no other choice. The only thing I didn't understand was how we were expected to get out to the boats. Some of the victims around me looked in far worse shape than I felt, which was no small thing considering that I felt like I had been trampled over.

  "Wait!" a familiar voice called. "Don't leave without me!"

  I swung around to see Weevil running down the hill toward us. It was all at once the best possible sight and the worst. I didn't want him to be here, doomed to my fate. And yet it meant he was still safe, for now.

  I started forward, but Brogg put a hand on my shoulder to hold me back. "Only you and I know the governor's orders," he whispered. "If you make him leave now, I'll have to go after him." I glanced back at the warden's expression of warning. Brogg wasn't on my side, but maybe he wasn't a murderer either.

  By then, Weevil had spotted me. Normally, he'd have greeted me with a friendly wave, but these were far from normal times. Instead, he only nodded. He knew something was wrong.

  "He'll have to come to the Colony now," Brogg said, more loudly. "It would've been better if he'd stayed out of sight. Your friend is insane to show up here."

  "He probably is," I said, brushing Brogg's hand away. "But that's better than dead." In a strange way, Weevil might have just saved his own life.

  I began walking toward Weevil, but other wardens had surrounded him, twisting his arms behind his back as if he had come here threatening them. If I were not so unsteady on my feet, I would have challenged them.

  "I'm sick!" Weevil said, far too cheerfully. "I'm really, truly sick, just like the others. I need to go to the Colony."

  "Have you been tested?" a warden asked.

  "Ow!" Weevil said as his arm was pulled again. "Really, is all of this necessary? I'm asking to go to the Colony. I don't see what the problem is."

  "What are your symptoms?" the warden asked.

  They had him on his knees by then, and someone was holding his arms behind his back. Weevil only looked past the men at me and tried to frown.

  He cleared his throat. "Well, I've had all the symptoms. You know, pain, fevers, rash. You name it, I've had it."

  "He doesn't look sick," a warden said. "Take him to the doctor for testing."

  I pushed to the center of the group and immediately knelt beside Weevil and put a hand on his forehead. "There you are! I was so worried about you, all the pain you were in before you left. You must've been so delirious, you didn't even know what you were doing."

  Which was a ridiculous thing to say, of course. I never knew a person so plagued by delirium that he was sent into fits of lock picking.

  "Whether he's sick or not, he will get sick now," another warden said. "Put him on the boats. He'll be useful on the island."

  Weevil jumped to his feet--more quickly than any actual Scourge victim could--and we immediately
started walking to the docks. We hung back from the rest of the group, and Weevil leaned in to talk to me out of the others' earshot.

  "I've seen you look better," he said. "Yesterday, for example. Or any other day ever."

  "What were you thinking, coming back here?" I hissed.

  "You and I always wanted to see new places," he replied. "I wasn't going to let you have this adventure all alone."

  "Are you sick?" I asked him. "Have you--felt anything wrong yet?"

  "At this point, does it really matter?"

  No, it didn't matter. Nor did it lessen the guilt already weighing on my shoulders.

  "Eat these." Weevil took my hand and pressed into them some leaves. Just by their feel, I recognized them as thrushweed leaves. "I found a small patch by the river last night. They'll keep you from getting sick."

  "I'm already sick." I pushed the leaves back at him. "You take them."

  "Then they'll keep you from getting sicker. I already ate some, this morning. Now hurry, eat them while no one's looking."

  I did. Most of our people enjoyed chewing on fresh thrushweed leaves, but I hadn't liked them since I was a young child. Still, I was sure they'd do me some good now.

  The dock was already crowded with other sick persons, and no doubt all of them were wondering the same question as Weevil asked aloud: "How do we get out to the boats?"

  He was immediately answered by a warden who raised a pistol and said, "Anyone who is not in the water by the time I count to ten will be shot. One!"

  Della turned. "My father, Sir Willoughby, is arranging with Governor Felling for me to stay here. I've told you a hundred times already, I'm not supposed to go on those boats."

  "Stay if you want," the warden said. "I have enough rounds for you and anyone else who thinks they're too good for the Colony. Two!"

  That was enough for Della, who jumped into the water and began swimming for the boats. Others still on the dock seemed to be less certain about which was worse--attempting to make the swim while fighting their pain, or facing the pistol.

  I marched over to the warden. "You have the rope. Pull the boats closer to the dock!"

  "We have our reasons."